


Don't Let Him Be Cold

by Swlfangirl



Series: Tumblr Prompts [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Comatose!Castiel, Dean passes out!, F/M, Happy Ending, M/M, bring the tissues, but I swear I wasn't lying about the happy ending, hurt!castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-27
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-06-04 22:43:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6678325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swlfangirl/pseuds/Swlfangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a prompt given to me by the beautiful and talented ANobleCompanion (@supernaturallynoble on tumblr) </p><p>#20: "You need to wake up because I can't do this without you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Let Him Be Cold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ANobleCompanion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ANobleCompanion/gifts).



> If you came here looking for my usual fluff I'm sorry but that's not what you'll find. I fully support this as a good story, just not quite as happy as I usually write so prepare yourself, grab some tissues, check the tags again, and make sure you're in a healthy place before continuing! xoxo

Sam was making his last rounds when he saw a familiar shape and recognizably messy dark hair. He rushed forward, chasing after the med techs and hoped with everything inside him that his brother-in-law wasn’t the one laying on that stretcher like he’d thought. When they took the next corner a heavy weight sank deep in his gut.

All the hoping in the world didn’t make it true. Cas was in the hospital. Cas was _unresponsive_ in the hospital. He had to call Sarah, call Dean, call everyone. His heart was pounding hard in his chest and no matter how many years of extensive training he had, Sam couldn’t will himself to move. They’d always warned him that professionalism and procedure go out the window when you know the patient. That treating a stranger wasn’t the same as when you see someone you love breaching the Emergency Room doors. That nothing could prepare you for that.  

He’d never expected to experience it first hand.

_Fuck._

His first call was to Sarah, she was home and he knew that she’d rush over next door and grab his niece and nephew, allowing Dean to be able to get away and get to the hospital. Sam took a deep breath wiping at the wet droplets gathering in the corner of his eyes.

“Sarah, It’s Cas.”

* * *

 

Sarah wasn’t sure she locked her house up, but she didn’t even care. Her vision blurred as she ran past the small line of hedges that separated their houses and leapt up the first two steps easily. She didn’t waste time knocking, instead running right through the mudroom and into the living room where Dean was seated on the couch Emma curled tightly against his chest and Jonathan planted beside him with his fingers in his mouth and a sippy cup clenched tightly in one hand.

“Dean, give me Emma.” Sarah said, moving forward to reach for the baby.

“Sarah...Sarah what’s wrong..Is Samm-”

“Sam’s fine, Dean.. it’s Cas.” She blurted, her hands reaching frantically for Emma despite her own disheveled state, she knew the effect a statement like that could have on Dean. He made no move to hand his daughter over but he was sitting shock still on the couch, the hand he’d been tapping against Emma’s bottom frozen in mid-air.

“Cas-Cas’ what?” Dean muttered, the words coming out hazy and muted.

“He’s been in an accident I think, Sam said he’s down at the hospital and he’d call when he knew more but you need to get over there. I’ve called you a ca-”

“I’ll drive.”

“Dean you can’t, well you probably can but don’t. You can’t take off like this and the cab will probably be here by the time you get some clothes and stuff gathered up.” Sarah offered, trying to distract him and keep him from speeding away even though his stubborn ass knew better.

“Clothes?” he asked, clearly confused about why he’d need to get clothes.

Sarah tried to take a deep breath and not think about what was actually happening. She used the same method of distraction she’d tried on Dean. “Clothes, deodorant, things like that. Cas will probably want fresh clothes when he comes home… and maybe you should change shirts too, looks like Emma missed the blanket on her last feeding.”

Dean sat there a moment longer before Sarah reached out and gently lifted Emma off his chest. “C’mon I’ll help pick something out.”

“I’m not a toddler, Sarah. I think I’m capable of picking out a godda- a friggin’ outfit for my husband,” he snapped rushing forward off the couch and upstairs taking them two at a time.

She forgave him before he’d even finished saying it, it was a stressful situation and she didn’t mind a few crass words. Especially if it meant Dean was up and moving toward the hospital. Though her heart clenched tight in her chest when she felt Jonathan's small hand patting her cheek.

“Serbear why you cry?” His voice small and concerned.

Sam had started calling her SarahBear and then eventually shortened it to Sar-bear. It came out a little wobbly from Jonathan’s mouth but she’d always understood what he’d meant.  The nickname made her chuckle through the tears and she wiped at her face quickly. She needed to get herself under control.

“Oh I just missed you too much, kiddo. I guess that means you better come over and see me more often, huh?” She asked, dropping a kiss to the top of his head as she heard a loud clang upstairs. She closed her eyes and hugged Jonathan closer, silently praying that Cas would make it through this.

* * *

 

Dean Winchester was not a patient person and he was pretty sure that’s why doctor’s called them “patients,” because you’d damn well better be to not want to strangle them with your bare hands every passing minute like he did.

Four hours ago Sarah came barging into his house and turned his life upside down with two words, “It’s Cas.”

Approximately twenty minutes later he was walking through the ER entrance and into his brother’s waiting arms.

Relatively two and a half hours ago they wheeled a broken and bruised version of his husband out through a set of double doors and into another one promising updates as soon as possible.

Dean has not seen any of them since.

“Sam just go back there and see what the fuck is going on,” Dean begged, pleaded with him for the hundredth time.

“Dean you know I can’t.. They won’t let me into the OR while Cas is in surgery.” Sam argued, squeezing Dean’s shoulder. He knew that Sammy was probably trying to comfort him but it didn’t really help.

 _Eventually_ , Dean lost track of time.

Sometime after that they finally wheeled Cas back through the doors and a very tired red headed Irish man in a lab coat stopped to talk to him. He took this white mask thing off and fidgeted with it in his hands which Dean thought probably wasn’t a good sign.

“Are you Mr. Winchester?” he asked, Dean was sure he’d gone white with fear was but even he could manage a bitch face at that comment.

“Owen just-” Sam started, but the man cut in.

“Of course, sorry. There was some internal bleeding but we got that under control quickly. There were a few complications but nothing that shouldn’t heal throughout the next few days. I think we’ll know more as soon as he wakes up,” he claimed, though his posture said there was more to it.

“When will that be? When will my husband wake up?” Dean asked, trying not to panic any further than he already was, though he thought he probably wasn’t doing a very good job of it considering Sam had to lunge out and grab Dean to keep him upright.

“The anesthetic should wear off pretty quickly, but I’m not really sure. He was unconscious when he got here, Mr. Winchester. If there were any unknown outside influences it may take longer.”

_Unknown, outside, influences._

* * *

 

Dean sat beside the hospital bed, curled in on himself almost. His hands clenched tightly beneath his chin as he let his eyes droop shut. He tried to calm himself down as he turned on the internal microphone in his brain. His thoughts had been groggy and muted ever since he’d gotten the news and he had to work at it to hear himself clearly.

It wasn’t something he did often, hell maybe only a handful of times in his entire life, but he tried...for Cas.

“Honestly, I don’t know if anybody’s listenin’ up there but I can’t lose him. I know there’s a lotta people down here, people that have their own husbands or wives, children. Hell, maybe they even have destinies, but Cas is...he’s special. Not just to me but to everyone,” Dean’s voice broke a little, his emotion tearing out of him, spilling over until he couldn’t stop it anymore. Like a compulsion his thoughts just took over.

“He’s so godd-arn giving, kind, and generous to a fault. I’ve literally had to try to talk him out of giving his last winter coat to a homeless man we found just down the road from here,” Dean chuckled quietly to himself at the memory. The look of pure determination in his eyes meant Dean quickly gave up the argument.  “I couldn’t stop him actually, but I went out and bought him another three coats the next day. I wrapped one around his shoulders and told him the other two were just in case he found someone else in need.”

“The truth was I just..I didn’t want him to be cold,” Dean’s lets out a choked off sob as his eyes flick open to see his husband lying lifeless and still on the cool thin mattress of the hospital bed. He wiped at his eyes before he continued, trying to lift his own spirits. “Cas gave the other two away within a week. That’s okay though, I expected as much. That’s just the kind of guy he is.” 

Dean adjusted the blanket up a little higher, making sure to carefully tuck Cas' arms in to block the chill of the room, "Just _don't let him be cold."_

* * *

 

Dean was so goddamn tired of sterile smells, bland walls, and fucking waiting. It felt like he’d spent his whole life waiting for Cas and once he found him, he’d thought that would be it. Y’know? That their relationship meant he wouldn’t have to be alone anymore. Instead he’s been slumped into a back-wrenching chair for hours, alone, waiting for his husband all over again. Dean missed the kids, the house, their bed. He missed those goddamn blue eyes that are hidden away beneath a layer of skin. Dean was tempted to lift it up but was too terrified there’d be nothin but an empty shell looking back at him.

The only comfort he had in this godforsaken place was the steady beeps from the machine proving that at least part of Cas is still there. His phone buzzed in his pocket pulled him out of his head long enough to answer it.

“Yeah?”

“Hey Dean, any change? Sarah asked softly, though he can hear the kids crying in the background.

“Nah, still nothin’ Em and Jon okay?” he replied, knowing it would be bedtime soon and they would both recognize that something was up. They rarely ever stayed with Sam and Sarah and when they did, it was never at home. They always went next door. Even Emma would pick up on the tiniest changes in her routine. Dean bitterly thought about how he and Cas would probably be reading them a bedtime story any other night.

“They’re getting a bit restless, Jonathan’s been asking for his papa for a while now, but I think they’ll tucker out soon. I mean, unless you want me to,” she hesitated, clearly wavering on the offer before finishing the statement. “I can bring them there, if you want…”

‘No, they...he wouldn’t want them to see him like this and they won’t be able to understand it yet. Not really. Fuck, I don't  even understand it myself,” he admitted, scrubbing a long hand down his face as he tried to quiet the loud roar of panic in his mind.

Sarah rushed to agree and reassure him that the kids would be okay and that she’d have them in bed soon. “Do you want to talk to them? I mean.. It might help…”

“Yeah, you can put Jon on,” Dean agreed, tucking his head down a little to keep his gaze on the floor. He needed to keep himself in check so his son wasn’t more panicked after talking to him than he’d been before.

“Daddy!, wen will you be here? I missssh you, and papa.”

The sound of his son’s voice damn near broke him even further and Dean had to bite his fist to keep from letting out a whimper. “Hey kiddo, Sarbear’s gonna tuck you and sis in tonight, doesn’t that sound fun?”

“I want papa to reaaad my tory, daddy!” John cried, his voice growing more uneven by the second.

“I bet if you ask real nicely Sarbear will read you two whole stories,” Dean exclaimed, hoping his fake enthusiasm would calm his son down a little. Thankfully, it seemed to work as Jon begged for Sarah to read him two of his favorite books. Dean knew it was useless the kid rarely lasted past the first eight pages of anything and given the late hour, he assumed Jon would be lucky to make it that far.

“Give sis a kiss for me okay, and I’ll see you tomorrow, buddy.”

“Kay, night daddy, night papa love you.”

Dean didn’t wait for Sarah to pick the phone back up. He just ended the call and dropped his head into his hands and wept.

“You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you, sweetheart.”

* * *

 

Morning came with more doctors who couldn’t find their way out of a paper bag and even less patience for Dean, apparently. Sam came to tame him with coffee and the apple pie muffins from his favorite bakery, but he couldn’t think about eating anything. Still, he gulped the coffee like it was a lifeline and popped a couple advil hoping it would soothe the ache between his eyes and the twinges of pain in his lower back.

“Dean I know this is difficult, but you should probably go home for a little while. Take a shower, get some sleep, play with the kids and talk to them about what’s going on,” Sam suggested, his big brown eyes even more wide than usual but it wasn’t going to work.

“I-can’t, I can’t leave him alone, Sammy.”

“I’ll stay with him and I’ll call you the second anything changes, or even looks like it might change...okay?” His brother was trying to do what was best, even Dean in his sleep deprived, grief-stricken state could tell that..but he still felt guilty for even entertaining the idea let alone doing it. He didn’t give a rat’s ass about food or sleep, or really even showering but he missed his kids like two open wounds inside his chest.

“I-yeah, okay just.. Just gimme a minute with him.”

“Sure,” Sam agreed, slipping back outside the heavy wooden door.

Dean edged closer, gently moving Cas over until he could sit beside him. He took his husband’s cheeks in his hands like he had a million times over and let out a deep breath. “I’ll be back in a couple hours I just need to check on Em and Jon, sweetheart. I’m not giving up on you and I’m not abandoning you. So you keep fighting for me, Cas. You keep fucking fighting and come back to me.”

Dean pressed his lips to Cas’ soft pink mouth and he let the tears fall, let the damp tracks line his cheeks and the rush of guilt and pain wash over him. “I love you, Cas.”

Forcing himself off the bed, Dean wiped at his eyes before heading for the door. The previously steady beeps of the heart monitor sped quicker the closer he got to it. When he finally reached out for the handle he jerked it open and pulled Sam back into the room just before a wave of people rushed in.

He tried to get closer but Sam was holding him back, muttering in his ear that if he drew attention to them they’d both be kicked out and he wouldn’t be able to hear what was happening.

“Then tell me what the fuck is happening,” Dean hissed, his arms going limp at his sides as the fight was just drained from him,

“He’s waking up, Dean...Dean he’s waking up.”

That’s the last thing he remembered before the room began to spin and he was getting closer and closer to the ground.

* * *

 

Dean woke up to blue eyes and a soft smile. It took him a minute to realize he wasn’t dreaming, not with the swollen bruises littering Cas’ neck and shoulder. “You’re awake.”

“So are you,” Cas grin splitting a little wider.

“Yeah yeah, I passed out, you can give me hell about it later… how you feeling?”

“I’m okay, I think a few days of rest will be welcome though,” Castiel admitted, his hand clenching around Dean’s arm as a sure sign of life, strength, and much needed comfort.

“Fuck, we almost lost you, sweetheart…I shit-Cas I was going out of my mind,” he scolded, though everything in him felt relief and gratitude.

“I’m okay, Dean. I’ll never stop fighting for you.”


End file.
